Santa Looked a lot Like Daddy
by criminally charmed
Summary: A small Christmas tale from my Tracy Family universe.  Alan's daughter sees something on Christmas she shouldn't.


**Santa Looked a Lot like Daddy**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - I didn't get the Thunderbirds for Christmas. Sigh. I also do not own the Christmas carol "Santa Looked a lot Like Daddy" by Brad Paisley (Garth Brooks also did a cover, although it was origionally done by Buck Owens (before I was born - that is old!). But I was listening to that as I watched my daughter open presents this morning and it just came to me. So consider this a Christmas present from me to you.**_

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_**Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him  
It's not the way I had him pictured  
Santa was much too thin**_

Christmas came, like it came every year, everywhere around the world, to Tracy Island. It must be said that when they were little, the Tracy grandchildren – the offspring of the five sons of billionaire Jeff Tracy – never realized how wealthy the family was. Their presents were nice, their clothes well made, but nothing was ever extravagant or over-the-top. Looking back, that may have been one of their best gifts – a normal childhood.

Well, as normal as you get when you live on a tropical island and most of the neighbors are also next-of-kin.

The Christmas that Samantha Tracy, the oldest child of Jeff's youngest son, Alan, turned six was the first time she had every really questioned Santa.

_**He didn't come down the chimney  
So mama must have let him in  
Santa looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him**_

"Daddy," Sammie asked her father at breakfast a few days after Thanksgiving. When Alan turned his blue eyes – identical to Sammie's own, in color and shape – to his first born, the little blonde girl had an unusually serious look.

"How does Santa come to the Island? There's no snow here."

"Well," Alan said, stifling a yawn – that rescue in Borneo had been exhausting – "Santa doesn't need snow to be here. He has Christmas magic. So the snow heads up before him and makes it so his sleigh can come in safely."

"So the magic snow is like Th'nderbird One?" Parker – one of Gordon's twins – asked. The twins were close in age to Sammie and the trio often led each other into one form of mischief or another.

The adults chuckled while Alan looked fondly at Thunderbird One's chief pilot, Scott, remembering his oldest brother explain to Alan – who had still believed in Santa when they moved to Tracy Island – why Santa could come to the South Pacific as easily as he had come to Kansas.

"Something like that, Parker," Jeff smiled.

Samantha had seemed satisfied for the moment, much to her father's relief. So it was almost a month later, on Christmas Eve, that the Tracy grandchildren were doing their annual Christmas Eve sleepover at the main villa.

_**Well, they thought I was fast-a-sleppin'  
They thought that I was tucked in bed  
They never thought I'd come a-peepin'  
Or that I'd hear what was said**_

Jeff Tracy looked around his suite and smiled. Whereas the sleeper chair – a double wide recliner that could convert into a small bed – often held one or more sleeping child, on this one night of the year, every spare bit of space in his sitting room seemed to hold one of his grandchildren. From the two oldest, Scott's son, Jason, and John's daughter, Elizabeth, on down to the youngest children, they were all curled up in sleeping bags. Only Alan's two week old, Grace, was missing. But Jeff was sure she would be there next year.

Down in the infirmary, far from ears that heard too well, Alan Tracy grumbled as he put the Santa suit on. The youngest brother tried to ignore his brothers' chuckles as pillows added a girth the former track star had never had.

"Why don't one of you have to do this?" Alan grumbled.

"I did," John commiserated with his only other blonde brother. "Three years ago because of Elizabeth. Remember?"

"OK," Alan agreed. "So why is it only the Tracy daughters question anything about Santa?"

"Because Tracy sons know not to question where gifts come from," Virgil chuckled.

"Dad never did this," Alan groaned.

"No," Scott grinned. "But he did have a broken arm the Christmas I turned eight."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Virgil's wife, Sarah, asked. "I can't even remember your dad – oh, wait. I would have only been two if Scott was eight."

The other Tracy wives giggled. Sarah, having grown up with the Tracys, often had the best dirt on the brothers' childhood foibles.

John smiled as he explained. "Dad heard Scott talking to Grandma that one of the older boys at school had told him there was no Santa. So Dad decides to climb up to the roof and stomp around, shaking some old sleigh bells he had found in Grandpa's barn."

"Yeah," Scott laughed. "And Dad found an icy patch on the roof."

John helped adjust the belt around Alan's newly rotund stomach. "Luckily the snow drift next to the house broke most of the fall. How did he explain it to us in the morning, Scott?"

Scott took a sip of coffee and smiled at the memory. "Santa broke a runner down the road and Dad slipped and fell while helping him fix it."

Kate gently but firmly took the coffee cup from her husband and laughed. "Well feel sorrier for my Dad. He had to try and get us to believe that Santa came to our house."

"Why would that be so much harder for your father?" Tin-Tin asked.

Gently taking her newest niece from Tin-Tin since the baby was done nursing, Kate patted a burp from Grace in order to let her sister-in-law adjust her clothes underneath the nursing blanket before she answered.

"Well, Dad did have to explain why Santa – the non-religious symbol of Christmas – was coming to our house three days after Chanukah had ended."

_**Santa put his arm around mama  
And mama put her arm around him  
So if Santa Claus ain't daddy  
Well then I'm a gonna tell on them**_

Sammie blinked sleeping as she looked up and saw her younger sister, Joanna, looking down at her. If Sammie was their father as a girl, then Jo was their mother's image as well. Luckily three-year-old Valerie and baby Grace were a good blend of their parents. People were often surprised to discover Sammie and Jo were not only related but sisters and would often ask if one was adopted.

"Sammie," Jo whispered. "I think I hear Santa."

"Jo," Sammie grumbled, sounding remarkably like Alan at the moment. "Nana or Pop-Pop are probably doing some last second Christmas stuff." Sammie knew from experience that her maternal grandparents, who worked for their Grandpa, often would take care of things when the other Tracys weren't around.

"No," Jo shook her head, her dark locks whipping around her pixie-like face. "Nana and Pop-Pop are in their own house. None of the path lights are on."

Sammie sat up at that, knowing that if their grandparents – or Brains – were travelling between the main compound and their own villas, the safety lights would be on. Getting out of her bedroll, Sammie peeked over at the houses of her four uncles. Nope. All lights were off. Joanna just might be right.

"But where's the snow?" Sammie whispered. "Daddy said there was magic snow."

"Maybe it's only on the roof," Terrance, Parker's twin, surmised as the two red-heads joined their partner-in-crime at the window.

"I guess," Sammie agreed. Peeking into her grandfather's sleep area, the six-year-old nodded to her cousins and sister.

"Grandpa's asleep. Let's go down and try and see Santa."

Four children snuck past sleeping cousins and down the hall, anxious for a glimpse of the jolly old elf himself. That was something even none of the Thunderbirds had done!

_**Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him  
It's not the way I had him pictured  
Santa was much too thin**_

"Look!" Terrence whispered. "It's Père Noël!"

"No it's not!" Jo whispered in return. "It's Santa Claus!"

Sammie sighed and closed her eyes before elbowing her sister. "That's what Santa is called in France, ding-a-ling! Aunt Julie uses French words sometimes."

"That reminds me," Jo asked as the twins began to scamper back down the hall, "do you two know what merde means?"

Sammie had begun to follow her cousins and sister back to their grandfather's suite when she heard a new voice. The little girl couldn't understand the words but she would know her mother's soft tones anywhere. Wondering what her mother had to say to Santa, the little girl snuck back down and peered around the corner.

_**I never saw Dancer or Prancer  
I never heard the sleigh bells ring  
I never saw a red-nosed reindeer  
Like they show on the TV screen**_

"Did they see you?" Tin-Tin whispered.

"Yep," Alan grinned, trying not to pull at the itchy fake whiskers.

"Don't take them off," the slender Malaysian woman grinned. Putting her arms around her husband, Tin-Tin leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips. "It's kinda hot."

"Funny, Tin," Alan grumbled. "You give birth two weeks ago but I get the baby weight."

Giggling, Tin-Tin snuggled into her husband, sighing as he put his arms around her and kissed her back.

In the hallway, Sammie looked on in disbelief. What in the world was Santa doing kissing _her_ mommy? Daddy was gonna be so hurt. Sammie wandered back down the hall, mad at her mommy and Santa for hurting her beloved Daddy.

_**But he sure brought lots of presents  
So Santa Claus he must have been  
Well he sure looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him **_

The next morning, Sammie worried her father as she refused to open the presents marked "To Samantha From Santa". When the little girl ran down the hall, Alan stood up, holding Grace in his arms.

"Sit, my son," Kyrano said softly. "I suspect I may know what is bothering Samantha." The older man went down to the room and found his oldest granddaughter crying on her balcony.

"Samantha?"

Sammie looked up, tears trailing down her face. Kyrano bent down and picked the six-year-old up. Sitting on the wicker rocker, he cuddled her closely.

"What is troubling you, my angel?"

Sniffling, Sammie muttered. "Mommy kissed Santa. Mommy isn't supposed to kiss anyone but Daddy."

"I will tell you a secret, Samantha," Kyrano looked around conspiratorially as he whispered to the little girl.

"That was your Daddy last night."

"My Daddy can't be Santa," Sammie protested. "When could he? He lives here with us. He works for Grandpa and he writes. Daddy doesn't have time to be Santa!"

"Well," Kyrano whispered, "Thunderbird Five detected there would be a bad weather in a few places last night, so Santa asked your Uncle John to pick up the presents for the Island on the way back from Five. It would be one less place Santa would have to stop and could save him some time."

"So why was Daddy dressed as Santa?"

"Ah," the older man said wisely. "Your Daddy correctly thought that some little girl would get up and try to peek. So he dressed as Santa in order that no one would discover Santa's secret."

"So Mommy didn't kiss Santa, she just kissed Daddy?" Sammie sighed in relief.

"Indeed," Kyrano agreed.

The little girl smiled and ran back to the living room, throwing herself into her father's arms and smiling at her mother for the first time that morning. Her relieved parents smiled at each. They were not sure what Kyrano had said to Sammie but once more his wisdom had obviously come in handy.

Years later, Sammie Tracy – now a U.S. Air Force fighter pilot was holding her infant brother. The young woman had missed her brother's birth, having been deployed abroad when her mother went into labor with her "mid-life surprise". But the blonde had been delighted to get leave for Christmas.

Going through an old photo album, Sammie smiled at the pictures from the Christmas when she was six.

"Hey, Jeffy," Sammie kissed her baby brother. "This was one of my favorite Christmases ever. Did you know Daddy was one of Santa's helpers? Yep. You and I have a great Daddy."

The baby's eyes went wide as he babbled up at his oldest sister. Jeffy may have never met his sister before, but he reveled in the unconditional love from her.

"Is that how your grandfather explained it?" Alan said with a chuckle, handing Sammie a cup of peppermint tea.

"Well, it was either that or wonder if Grace was really my sister," Sammie said wryly.

Alan laughed and gave his oldest a one armed hug. "If someone hadn't gotten up -"

"Hey, I was trying to sleep. Jo and the gruesome twosome woke me and dragged me into it."

"Yeah, because you were such a good girl," Parker laughed as he entered, carrying a plate of Onaha's fresh baked gingerbread men.

"Nope," Sammie grinned as she set down the photo album. "I just knew how not to get caught – unlike some red-headed cousins I could mention." Reaching over, she snagged a cookie and bit the head off.

"Jeffy, I hope you know what you are in for," Parker sighed as he turned to leave, determined to get in a few laps in the pool before the family began to gather for the holiday. After all, the Olympics were only seven months from now.

Alan and Sammie sat on the couch as he picked up the album, the two blonde heads leaning in close as they enjoyed the moment of relative peace, and laughing over memories of Christmas past…

_**Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him  
It's not the way I had him pictured  
Santa was much too thin**_

_****__**He didn't come down the chimney  
So mama must have let him in  
Santa looked a lot like daddy  
Or daddy looked a lot like him**_

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_**A/N - Merry Christmas - CC**_


End file.
